Gallery of Nuts
RSS Feed


Web Counter
people who wish they were us

      ARCHIVES

August 2003

September 2003

October 2003

November 2003

December 2003

January 2004

February 2004

March 2004

April 2004

May 2004

June 2004

July 2004

August 2004

September 2004

October 2004

November 2004

December 2004

January 2005

February 2005

March 2005

April 2005

May 2005

June 2005

July 2005

August 2005

September 2005

October 2005

November 2005

December 2005

January 2006

February 2006

March 2006

April 2006

May 2006

June 2006

July 2006

August 2006

September 2006

October 2006

November 2006

December 2006

January 2007

February 2007

March 2007

April 2007

May 2007

June 2007

July 2007

August 2007

September 2007

October 2007

November 2007

December 2007

January 2008

February 2008

March 2008

April 2008

May 2008

June 2008

July 2008

August 2008

September 2008

October 2008

November 2008

December 2008

January 2009

February 2009

March 2009

April 2009

May 2009

June 2009

July 2009

August 2009

September 2009

October 2009

November 2009

December 2009

January 2010

October 2010

January 2022

Sunday, July 18, 2004
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Inside the dogs are weeping...

I hate to toot my own horn, especially since I lack almost any form of musical talent whatsoever, but I may very well be one of the last nice guys left in the entire world. I hold doors open for complete strangers, I call people even younger than myself "ma'am or sir", I say please and thank you, and I don't go out of my way to inform people of their stupidity. Case in point: I decided to visit the local Sonic Drive In this evening with a fellow convoginator, and ordered what I considered to be quite an easy order to remember, much less write down. However, not too much time had passed when one of the future welfare recipients trudged out to my car, thrust a package in my face, grabbed my money, handed me some change, made an about-face, and practically sprinted away from my car. Not just the wrong order, but the wrong order with poor service to boot. Calmly, I pressed the red button for a customer-service representative and informed them of their mistake. The in-duh-vidual apologized and asked that I order again. I complied. Fifteen minutes passed, and the speaker came to life without my prompting this time, "Have you already placed an order?" Somewhat suprised, I turned and responded still in a polite voice, "Yes, twice." Unfortunately, black-tar heroine must affect your short term memory, so I was forced to order a third time. Thankfully no further action was required on my part to bring my order to fruition...

I suppose I could have been mad and demanded to speak to a manager. It has been my experience, however, that the manager at most fast-food restaraunts is just the biggest douche of the lot. I elected to make no complaint, giving them the benefit of the doubt and believing it to be an isolated incident. If such service is repeated, I'll just exercise my hard-earned money elsewhere. The real concern lies with the employees themselves... suddenly all those test scores I looked at the other week make a lot more sense... and as a tax-payer that really bothers me.

I should have lived in the 20's too... I would have been just old enough to fly B-17's in "The War."

Jeff C.


 
National Dairy Council -- Professional Convoginators -- The Good Word about Convoginatin' -- Chocolate Milk Myths
The Godfather Convoginator -- News for the Convoginator
CONVOGINATOR'S STORE